


Listen

by airshipmechanic



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airshipmechanic/pseuds/airshipmechanic
Summary: Billy expected that he might die. He had expected that Goodnight might die, too. What he never expected was that they both would live, and Goody would leave him alone with a note.





	Listen

Billy expected that he might die at Rose Creek. He had expected that Goodnight might die, too. What he never expected was that they both might live, and Goody would still be gone. 

That was sure what he was looking at, though. Goodnight’s sickroom in the boarding house, standing empty - his saddlebags gone, the bed neatly made, and there on the little table by the bed, a folded piece of paper with “Billy Rocks” written on it in Goody’s fine looping hand. Billy saw it and felt his heart drop into his stomach, holding his breath as he picked it up, terrified more than anything that he was about to read a suicide note. 

_My dearest love,_

_I know there is no apology I could give that would properly make amends for my actions. Like a coward, I rode off and left you to die, an act of cowardice for which I do not expect your forgiveness. I could not in good conscience, however, depart without saying how dreadfully sorry I am, no matter how worthless those words may be to you._

_I am truly, deeply sorry for leaving you, mon cher. I am a man with very many regrets, but I believe this may be the greatest of them. I know my return at the last moment did little to repair that mistake, but I will hold forever in my heart the memory of your laughter in the church tower, a gift I neither expected nor deserved but nonetheless cherish._

_I have lived a life of foolish mistakes, and I have been a selfish, self-absorbed man. I mean now to do what I may to make amends, and to perhaps make myself worthy of the love and care you have given me, undeserved. I have no fear of death any longer, because I intend to do enough good as I go on in this world that I may find some peace after it._

_The first good thing I know that I can do is to set you free. We have maintained the fiction for years that I do as much good for you as you do for me, but I have known from the start that beyond our first acquaintance, this has been a relationship in which you give much, much more than you receive. You have other friends here in Rose Creek, people who can do better for you than I have on the business side, without any of the accompanying trouble I have brought you. I hope that you may find love again, as well, with someone who will adore you as much as I do without needing you so desperately. I wish only the very best for you, my love, and I can only hope you will retain some fond memories of our time together, and forgive me this last act of cowardice, bidding you farewell in ink rather than face to face. My only excuse is that I know if I had to meet your beautiful eyes to say all this, my resolve would crumble and I would be a burden upon you once more._

_Adieu, Billy Rocks, and may the world be better to you than it and I have been._

_Love always,  
Goody_

Billy didn’t know if he felt more like crying or stabbing something. “That _idiot_!” he snarled, though there was no one in the room to hear him. “That melodramatic, self-destructive idiot!” 

He was in no shape for stomping out the door the way he was, down to the parlor, out into the street, ignoring the shouts of the older woman who’d been acting as his nurse as he recuperated. He couldn’t imagine that Goodnight was any shape for this damn fool thing he was doing either, though, and that would make it easier to catch up. 

“Sam!” He’d caught sight of Rose Creek’s new sheriff and went marching forward, though he didn’t have to make it far. Sam came jogging toward him as soon as he saw that Billy was dressed and out of bed. 

“Easy there, Billy, just--” 

“Where is he?” Billy grabbed Sam’s arm, partly to make clear just how very urgent his question was, and partly for balance. He was all stitched and bandaged, but he’d lost an awful lot of blood and really ought to have been lying down and drinking as many fluids as he could stand, not doing any of what he was doing. 

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, and then continued quickly to cut Billy off before he could either charge off for the stables or start yelling more questions. “But Red Harvest is out tracking him, and Goody’s in no state to outwit him, even if he ever could’ve. Give it a day or two and we’ll go drag his ass back.” 

“Did you read the note?” Billy wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer to be yes or no. Yes meant Sam was snooping and _knew_ about them, but no meant he would have to _explain_. He didn’t like either of those options. 

“Wasn’t my name was written on it,” Sam said. “What’d it say?” 

“It says he’s an idiot.” But that didn’t tell Sam anything useful, so Billy took a deep breath and attempted to clarify. “He feels like shit for leaving, even though he came back. He’s got this idea he has to ride out alone to redeem himself. And he thinks he’s a burden on me and I can do better.” 

“That what you think?” Sam asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer to that question.

“Of course not,” Billy sighed. “He’s my…” He couldn’t spill what Goody was to him, not here in the middle of the street. He wasn’t even sure telling Sam was a good idea to begin with. “I don’t want him to go.” 

Sam patted his shoulder. “Then let’s get him back and talk some sense into him. And speaking of sense, how about you go lie down until Red gets back with some information? I know you’re going to insist on going wherever it turns out he is, but I’d feel a lot better about that if you’d rest beforehand.” 

It was fair, Billy had to admit, and he was indeed exhausted just by this walk from his room halfway into the street. He let Sam steer him back to his bed, let the maid bring him food and water which he dutifully ate, and he stared out the window for any sign of Red Harvest’s return.

* * * * *

Billy was asleep when Red Harvest came back, late in the night. Good friend that he was, Sam came to wake him.

“He’s stopped in Shaker Hills,” Sam said. “Need any help getting your boots on?” 

Any other time, Billy would have insisted on taking care of it himself. He _could_ get his own boots on, he was sure, but it would take a while. Letting Sam help would make it go faster, and he didn’t have any time to lose. He had a sweet, beautiful idiot to track down and yell at. 

Now that they knew exactly which direction Goodnight was headed, following him became a lot easier. Sam and Billy reached Shaker Hills by noon the next day, found out that Goody was still heading east, toward the mountains, and took off riding hell-for-leather once more. As Sam had theorized, Goody wasn’t doing much to cover his tracks - a sign, Billy knew, that Goody genuinely believed no one would care to follow. That they would be relieved to see him gone. 

“ _Idiot_ ,” Billy muttered to himself for the thousandth time. 

It was in the town of Big Trees that they caught up at last, having stopped only to feed and water the horses so they could keep up the pace they were setting. Once in a town, finding Goodnight wasn’t hard. It was evening, he’d be in the saloon. 

Billy walked through the swinging doors, leaving Sam to see to the horses. He didn’t pay any attention to the several people noticing how very not white he was. He didn’t even notice them, despite his usually sharp awareness of his surroundings, because he’d found what he was looking for at a table by the window, smoking a cigarette and reading Victor Hugo in French. He was stalking over to inform Goodnight that they were going to step outside to have a conversation when some other patron stepped in front of him. 

“Mister, you don’t wanna mess with that fella,” the man warned. “That’s _Goodnight Robicheaux_.” 

“I know,” Billy flatly replied. “Move.” 

“You’re lookin’ for him?” The slight concern that was previously on the man’s face was replaced with suspicion. “What’s a Chinaman got to do with Goodnight Robicheaux?” 

Billy had given up years ago on explaining to people that China and Korea were in fact two different countries. He also didn’t feel like explaining what he had to do with Goodnight - that was Goodnight’s job, had been for ten years now. “We have business. Now move before I move you.” 

That was the point at which Goodnight looked up from his book to see Billy Rocks, his glorious knight in shining armor, looking as murderous as he’d ever seen. Whether that look was for him or for the man currently in Billy’s path, that Goodnight didn’t really know. He’d claimed he no longer feared death, though, and it seemed the time had come to prove it. 

“No need for any of that,” he said, raising his voice enough to be heard as he slowly pushed himself up from his chair. Lord in Heaven, every single part of his body hurt. He’d taken too much lead to be upright, much less trying to ride across California. 

“You know this man, Mr. Robicheaux?” 

“He is a very good friend, in fact,” Goodnight said, putting on his game face as well as ever. He couldn’t run away now (didn’t really even want to). He’d just have to face whatever it was Billy wanted to throw at him. 

“Outside.” Billy said, jerking his head toward the door just in case Goodnight didn’t know where it was. “Now.” He wasn’t sounding much like the good friend Goodnight claimed he was, but the interfering patron didn’t seem inclined to step in again. He left them to walk out of the saloon, and once outside, Billy looked around for someplace without any damn people, preferably with chairs. 

“Billy, I--”

“Not here,” Billy flatly cut him off. “You have a room?” 

It was kind of Billy to avoid embarrassing him with whatever well-deserved beratement he was about to give, Goodnight thought. “Boarding house, next door,” he said, and gestured toward it. “After you.” 

“I’m not giving you another chance to run while my back is turned,” Billy said, not moving an inch. 

Well, he’d earned that one, hadn’t he? Goodnight sighed softly and began walking. At least it seemed Billy didn’t intend to stab him. That was nice. 

Both of them were slower on the stairs, and eventually they reached the room Goody had taken for the night. Once Billy came in, Goodnight shut the door behind them, turned the key in the lock, and set it on the little table by the bed. “So--” 

“My turn to talk,” Billy said. “You sit.” 

Obediently, Goodnight sat on the edge of the bed, grateful at least for the rest. Billy could tell him every awful thing he’d ever thought about him just as well if he was sitting as if he were standing. And that was surely what Billy was here to do, wasn’t it? 

“You.” Billy’s jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, trying to maintain some control of himself. “You are the _stupidest_ man I have ever met. You leave me with nothing but a letter, and you think I will be grateful? Happy?” 

“I--” 

“You have said enough!” Billy snapped. “I told you, I am talking now. You can talk again when I say you can.” 

Goodnight pressed his lips together, forcing himself to be silent. It was on the tip of his tongue to start apologizing again, but Billy was right. He’d done enough of that. It was time to just shut up and take his punishment. 

“This is always the problem with you. You talk so much, but you don’t listen. You don’t listen when I tell you I love you, you don’t listen when I say that what is good in you has always made up for what is bad, you don’t listen to anything I say at all, not when it is about you!” Billy started to pace, and then his body reminded him that he’d been shot full of holes and probably ought to sit down. He didn’t want to sit, though, so he leaned against the wall instead, arms crossed. “And you don’t listen when I say, where you go, I go. Because you left me - and I am not talking about when you left because you were afraid to die. That, I understood. What I do not understand is how you can think that it would be good for me for you to leave.” 

Goodnight looked up at him, tears welling in his eyes, feeling about an inch or so tall and every bit the idiot Billy had called him. He wanted to say he was sorry again, but it didn’t seem it was his turn yet. He kept quiet, and he listened. 

“I am glad you are not so afraid of death anymore,” Billy said, his voice lowering. “I am glad that what we did at Rose Creek showed you that you can be brave, and good. I am glad you think you can be better still - but I do not want to be one of your good deeds. I want to be with you, at your side like always. I want to be there to see you be better, and to hold you up when it is difficult, and to love you through all of it. I cannot do that if you leave me behind with a letter. If leaving is what you want to do, you may do it, but do not say it is for me, because it is not what I want.” 

Goodnight’s fingernails dug hard into his palms, just trying to give himself something to focus on so he didn’t break down crying. He looked up at Billy, and without words at his disposal, Goodnight held out his hand. He didn’t know that Billy would take it, and lord knows he would deserve the rejection, but he had to do _something_. 

It wasn’t out of pity that Billy pushed off the wall and stepped forward to lace their fingers together. “Now you can talk,” he said softly. “But only if you say something other than sorry.” 

Another apology had been the first thing on Goodnight’s mind, so he foundered a moment as he pushed past that. “Is ‘I love you’ acceptable?” he asked gingerly. 

“Yes.” Billy sat down beside him, keeping hold of Goodnight’s hand and just shifting it a bit to be more comfortable. 

“That’s good, because I do love you, Billy Rocks,” Goodnight softly replied, and gave him a watery little smile. “How about ‘I’m an idiot and I swear I’ll never do that again?’ That okay?” 

Billy nodded. “Very good, yes.” 

“That is good to know, because I feel very much like a fool right now,” Goodnight said. “And I never again want to walk out any door thinking I’ll never see you again. And, ah...if you’ll have me, I would be most grateful for a chance to return and try to make myself worthy of you while we are together, rather than apart.” 

That was what Billy had wanted to hear, more than anything else. He squeezed Goodnight’s hand - gently, they were still neither of them too strong yet. “I will have you,” he said softly. “On one condition.” 

“Anything,” Goodnight promised. 

“I want you to make good on this idea where you go out and do good things because you want to do good, and because that makes you feel good, _not_ as a way to punish yourself more,” Billy said. “You have been through enough.” 

When Billy said it, he could almost believe it. “You know I’ll probably fuck that up sometimes, right?” 

“I know.” Billy smiled faintly. “But if you try, that is good enough for me.” 

“I’ll try.” Goodnight figured he could do that. He could try. He might mess it all up here and there, but at least he wouldn’t mess it up _this_ bad again. 

Billy lifted his other hand, placing it at Goodnight’s cheek to turn toward him, then leaned in for the soft kiss he’d wanted back in Rose Creek when he’d woken up. “Now lie down,” Billy said, the little smile on his face taking the sting out of the order. “I’m tired from chasing you, and it has been too long since I got to fall asleep with your head on my shoulder.” 

It was the nicest thought Goody’d had since he’d recovered enough from his injuries to have sensible thoughts. He winced as he pulled his boots off, but he was smiling again once he laid down with Billy beside him. Everything hurt, physically speaking, but to Goodnight’s great surprise, he had been forgiven. He was free to nestle in at Billy’s side as he always did when they had a bed at their disposal, his head on Billy’s shoulder and an arm draped over Billy’s chest. 

“I love you,” Goodnight mumbled again, the words tripping over Billy’s clavicle as they sank toward sleep. 

“Love you too,” Billy quiet replied. “Let’s go home in the morning. We can figure the rest out from there, yeah?” 

Goodnight smiled softly against Billy’s shoulder, feeling more at peace than he ever had since the war. “Yeah.”


End file.
